The Boy She Knew Before
by Lulubird
Summary: Things have changed for Violet. And Things have changed in Tate. One shot. Set after 1x08.


**Set after 1x08: Rubber Man. **

In a frantic haze she threw random clothes into a duffel bag on her bed. Her hair was falling in her eyes as she bent over the bag, angrily shoving everything down trying to close it. The zip stuck halfway and no amount of tugging could set it free. Suddenly with an anguished cry she gave up and threw the bag across the room. Violet sunk to the floor. She sat there, her hair falling over her face, hiding her tears, as she inhaled rasping, shaky breaths, trying to regain herself.

She held up her arm, wrist facing her. She moved her eyes from the tips of her trembling fingers down to the base of her palm. Her sleeve had fallen down, every inch revealing both another silvery pale scar and an angry red gash.

She had lied to Tate when she promised she would never cut again.

A footstep out in the hall made her snap out of her thoughts. Quickly she pushed her sleeve firmly down and wiped the tear tracks from her cheeks. She heaved herself off the floor and reached for the bag. Hearing the door creak open she spun, holding the bag behind her. She shook her hair away from her face and gazed anxiously at Tate as he slipped through the door. His fierce eyes watched her, boring into her soul, analysing her expression.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice unnervingly quiet and calm. His eyes travelled down her body to where her hands held the bag behind her.

"I'm, I'm just packing, in case my Dad makes me leave," she stuttered. It was a weak excuse.

"Why would he do that Violet?" Tate queried as he gracefully sat on the bed, crossing his legs underneath him and continuing to gaze at her intensely.

"I don't know. Why does anyone do any of the shit they do?" She tried to make her voice sound strong and indifferent.

"You don't need to worry about that. I have it all under control," said Tate. He extended his arm towards her, holding out his hand. An invitation.

Violet hesitated, chewing her bottom lip and gazing nervously at his outstretched hand. He noticed her caution instantly.

His hand snapped back and he jumped off the bed.

"What's wrong? You don't trust me now?" he accused angrily, but without raising his voice. She could almost believe that there was hurt in his words, instead of just a cold hunger for control.

His huge eyes looked down at her and she found herself speechless gazing up at him.

He had power. Power over the things in this house.

Power over her.

"It wasn't right Tate," she whispered. "I lied and now my mom has gone." She broke his gaze and looked down at the ground between them. "It wasn't right," she repeated, barely breathing the words.

"Violet," he urged, reaching out and gripping her by the shoulders. He pulled her towards him. "It's not a case of right and wrong. I love you. That's all that matters. You love me, don't you?"

Words caught in her throat and tears crept back into her eyes. Tate watched one trickle down her cheek, a look of horror on his face. Instantly he let go of her, as if she had electrocuted him and backed away without taking his eyes from her face.

"She's my mom Tate," Violet insisted, too aware that it sounded like a desperate plea from a weak child. Tears were properly pouring down her cheeks now and she was twisting the strap of the bag nervously in her hand. "Tate please," she sobbed.

"No! I thought we loved each other!" he cried. His face had contorted to something she didn't recognise. Gone was the sweet boy who had looked at her with tears in his eyes and declared that he would never let anybody or anything hurt her. She wanted him back. In his place stood an angry monster. In his place stood a boy who looked more than capable of slaying his classmates one by one. And he frightened her.

Tate shook his head in anger and hurled one of the pillows from the bed at the wall. It hit a picture and both objects came crashing to the ground with a loud crash. Violet jumped backwards as shards of glass shattered across the floor. Their sharp, jagged edges caught the light and gleamed, presenting themselves.

"Tate please," she tried again, calmer. She put everything she had into controlling the tremor of fear in her voice. She took a wary step towards him.

He wouldn't look at her. He had collapsed onto the edge of the bed and held his head in his hands. She could see the dark spots on the floor as tears fells from his eyes.

"Tate." She reached out a hand and cautiously placed it on his shoulder, tensed to jump back. Nothing happened. She could feel his body shaking as he wept.

Violet looked down at the glass underneath her feet, glinting in the evening sun that streamed through the window. The sight of it made up her mind. Steeling herself she sat down on the bed next to Tate and reaching out, pulled his hands away from his face. He was forced to look up at her as she turned him to face her.

His expression had changed again. Now he resembled a hurt little boy. He looked at her with scared eyes that begged for love.

Violet took a deep breath. "I'm not going anywhere," she said, looking him straight in the eyes.

He looked at her for a few seconds before a child-like smile split his face. He almost fell forwards, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug.

She could feel the pressure of his body against hers and it made her nervous, to feel him all around her, to know there was no escape. But after a second she hugged him back, resting her head on his shoulder.

"We will always have each other Violet," Tate promised.

"I know," Violet replied.

"I love you," he declared.

Violet gazed over his shoulder at the window of her bedroom. The last bit of sunlight disappeared from the sky and she felt tears of panic come to her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut to make them go away and took a steadying breath.

"I love you too."

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><p><strong>Did you like it? Please review. It can make my day. <strong>

**Have advice? Please review. I'm always looking for ways to improve.**

**A/N: Before anyone gets angry, this is my interpretation of Violet and Tate and how they think. I know Violet is supposed to be some tough rebel and all but I think underneath it all she is scared and lonely and still a child. So yeah. And who even knows what's going on with Tate. You can't really write him out of character at the moment because he is all over the place. But the point is, this is how I see these two characters.  
><strong>


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